Washed Out
by violette7
Summary: AU-Blaine and Kurt are sophomores. Blaine faces a different kind of bullying at Dalton, so he transfers to McKinley. He brings with him a humiliating secret. WARNING: tiny bit of Seblaine. A story about jealousy, miscommunication, depression, cyberbullying (and the persistence of true love despite obstacles). Previously titled the Untitled Klaine Fanfic Project (I suck at names).
1. NOT a Love Machine

**A/N: I don't know what I'm doing … I should be editing (that's my job), writing QAF fanfic, or working on my final project for art class…all are fairly urgent, but I – just – can't – stop – myself. The power of Klaine is simply too strong to resist ;) I've only really ever written Brian and Justin stories (QAF), so forgive me if this sucks.**

**So I'm playing fast and loose with the timeline and basic facts … to start, Blaine and Kurt are both sophomores, and Sebastian transferred to Dalton a year earlier than in canon. Also…to avoid the pluperfect (past perfect), I used italics for 'flashbacks.'**

**Warning: There's a blip of Seblaine at the very beginning. Later, Sebastian is where he belongs, in the enemies' column.**

Chapter 1

Blaine walked into the Lima Bean, pushing the door open so hard and so fast that he nearly hit a pregnant woman cradling an infant in her arms. Fortunately, the door crashed against a metal garbage bin set nearby instead. The crash startled the woman, and she shrunk back.

Blaine ran a hand over his face and glanced at the woman apologetically. "I'm SO sorry. I guess I just don't know my own strength." He laughed nervously.

The woman relaxed, and Blaine rushed past, trying to escape the onlookers' shocked, accusing eyes. The truth was, today, he just hated … EVERYTHING.

It was Valentine's Day.

That fact should have had him strutting, grinning like a fool, and even oooing and ahhing over all the cutesy decorations. A little over a week ago, he'd been exactly that way. He'd started planning the BEST, MOST ROMANTIC date (abandoned tower with a view of the countryside, candles, a serenade, a Blaine-cooked Duck Confit, and a bottle of 100-year-old wine nabbed from Blaine's father's special wine cellar) for him and his _**'boyfriend' **_Sebastian.

At the thought, he laughed bitterly (as if – Sebastian had NEVER been his boyfriend) and an image surfaced in his mind …

_Sebastian flashed Blaine a sultry smile, eyes a little wide and twinkling, as he flirted and teased. "Your shy schoolboy act is __**HOT**__." _

Blaine flushed at the memory. He clenched his jaw. He didn't want his body to still be so responsive. He wanted to hate Sebastian. To find thoughts of him disgusting. Stomach curdling. Blaine sighed. He should have known.

_Sebastian was smooth … too smooth – chiseled and tall. The day Sebastian enrolled at Dalton, David and Wes gasped, literally gasped, when they laid eyes on him. They exchanged a glance and then said simultaneously, "I'd do him."_

_Blaine chuckled and complained, "You're not even gay!"_

_David and Wes shrugged. Again in unison, they explained, "Hot is hot."_

_Blaine rolled his eyes. He didn't know what all the fuss was about. Until Sebastian looked directly at him. Until their eyes met. Blaine felt like that gaze held him in place, effectively paralyzing him. His mouth fell open (a little)._

This recollection caused deep shame and more face burning.

_In that moment, Sebastian awoke something in Blaine. The weirdest, scariest feeling. It was part nausea (like he might actually puke), part sexual desire, and part belly burning. It felt terrible and yet good, too. It was __**wrong**__ (that feeling, that attraction – something about it was twisted), and Blaine KNEW it. But he just couldn't stop himself._

The following three weeks was a whoosh … a dizzying, burning, electric and ultimately excruciatingly painful life-destroying blur.

_Sebastian joined the Warblers and took every chance that association offered to flirt with Blaine. He even used his tryout as an opportunity to serenade Blaine. He somehow managed to __**VERY CAREFULLY**__ edit, arrange, and mash up Madonna's Erotica and NIN's Closer (still WAY too graphic for the Warblers, but not exactly triple X)._

_**You let me violate you. **_

_**You let me desecrate you. **_

_Erotic. Erotic. Put your hands all over my body._

_**You let me penetrate you. **_

_**You let me complicate you. **_

_Erotic. Erotic. Put your hands all over my body._

_I could bring you so much pleasure. I'll come to you when you say. I know you want me. I'm not gonna hurt you. Just close your eyes._

_**Help me! I've broke apart my insides. **_

_**Help me! I've got no soul to sell. **_

_Erotic. Erotic. Put your hands all over my body._

_I could bring you so much pleasure. I'll come to you when you say. I know you want me. I'm not gonna hurt you. Just close your eyes._

_**Help me! The only thing that works for me. **_

_**Help me get away from myself. **_

_If I take you from behind, push myself into your mind, when you least expect it, will you try to reject it?_

_**I want to feel you from the inside. My whole existence is flawed. You get me closer to God.**_

_If I'm in charge and treat you like a child, will you let yourself go wild, let my mouth go where it wants to?_

_**I want to feel you from the inside. My whole existence is flawed. You get me closer to God.**_

_I could bring you so much pleasure. I'll come to you when you say. I know you want me. I'm not gonna hurt you. Just close your eyes._

_**I want to feel you from the inside. My whole existence is flawed. You get me closer to God.**_

_Just close your eyes. Put your hands all over my body. _

_All over me. All over me. Give it up. Do as I say. Give it up. Let me have my way. I'll give you love. I'll hit you like a truck. I'll give you love. I'll teach you how to…_

_(SUDDEN SILENCE)_

_Italics only = Madonna_

_**Bold = NIN**_

_Blaine was more embarrassed by the serenade than he'd ever been in his whole life, but he was equally as turned on. He … uh … retreated to his dorm room afterward (skipping dinner and everything). He needed 'alone time.'_

_Once accepted into the Warblers, Sebastian approached Blaine for help. He said he was worried about not fitting in, not doing well. He asked for advice and even some coaching (for both singing and dancing). _

Blaine laughed bitterly. Sebastian had played him so easily, so well. Blaine remembered Sebastian's (he realized now) fake frustrated voice:

"_I can't seem to manage this side step, not while swaying my hips like that and turning. Can you show me?"_

_Blaine turned bright red, swallowed hard, and laughed nervously. "I just did!"_

"_No I mean … __**guide**__ me … with your hands."_

"_Oh. Uh … Okay."_

_Blaine felt his stomach flip, his entire body flush hot and then cold, and electricity spark and then course through him the moment his hands came into contact with Sebastian's (he placed his on Sebastian's hips and Sebastian slid his hands over Blaine's). _

_That quickly led to a make-out session Blaine thought might literally kill him. He could barely breathe, and his heart kept stopping and starting like a skipping child. _

_THEN two weeks in, Blaine let Sebastian … uh … well … __**you know**__. _

Blaine's face burned. His stomach turned. The experience itself wasn't what Blaine expected. It wasn't romantic. It was … clumsy, mostly painful, and quick. As ugly as Sebastian's insides.

_Sebastian flirted and teased and drawled until he persuaded Blaine to sneak out with him. They went to Scandals, the nearby gay bar, got drunk, and danced too close (their dancing very nearly approached sex) and then __**IT**__ happened … _

Blaine's face burned hotter.

_**IT**__ happened in a filthy bathroom stall. _

_That wouldn't have been the end of the world (he'd heard first times were awkward … that sometimes couples needed to do 'it' a few times before it got awesome), EXCEPT … the next day brought a cold snap. An arctic wind blowing down from the North Pole …_

… or was it the up from the South Pole? Blaine didn't know … geography was hardly his best subject.

_Sebastian started avoiding Blaine, ignoring his calls and texts, and then, three days after taking Blaine's virginity, he took the Warblers (but not the Warblers' virginity ;) ... he took Blaine's position). _

That's right.

The whole time Sebastian had been 'wooing' Blaine, he had been staging a coup. He'd gotten all but three of the Warblers (Blaine, David, and Wes) to agree that Sebastian was a better front man. He was taller, with a more classic beauty, and he could sing and dance better than Blaine (or so the traitors all 'agreed').

_An emergency meeting was held, at which David and Wes had only been able to delay the coup, arguing that Blaine should have a chance to defend his position. Everyone agreed, but there really was no point. Sebastian won by the same exact margin. _

_Blaine wasn't one to boast or exaggerate … he KNEW (__**KNEW**__) his performance was better. But he still lost._

Tears stung his eyes. Blaine laughed at himself and blinked them away. God, he could be such a drama queen. Still, it felt like he'd lost EVERYTHING. He'd given Sebastian something special, something he could never get back … and in the tawdriest way. Sebastian hadn't really even wanted Blaine. That was the worst part. If he'd wanted to seduce and then drop Blaine because he thought Blaine was hot but he didn't DO relationships, that would have been one thing. Crappy, but fairly normal. But seducing him and taking his virginity ... **AS A PLOY** to distract Blaine while Sebastian turned most of Blaine's friends against him? That went beyond the pale. Blaine felt stupid and ridiculous.

_Blaine quit the Warblers that same day. David and Wes made a half-hearted attempt to stop him, but even they knew staying would wreck him. They looked genuinely dismayed by everything. That helped a little. _

_Then the next day, five days after the virginity theft, Sebastian posted a video on Dalton's internal Web server. Every student and faculty member got to watch Blaine pushed up against a grimy, cum-spattered wall … crying out in pain and then moaning in pleasure. The administration had managed to get it taken down, but it was too late. Everyone had already seen it. And of course, the IT guys were unable to connect anything to Sebastian. He was smooth alright._

_Blaine lasted exactly one day after that. One day of whispers … students' pointing and laughing … crude jokes ('warbler' had taken on a whole new meaning) … even cruder drawings. By the afternoon, he called his brother (though that required a submission and a humiliation all on its own), begging him to intercede, to get their parents to agree to let him stay with an uncle who lived in Lima and attend public school. Coop did it, but Blaine knew Coop was going to make him pay a steep price for that favor._

_That evening, David and Wes helped Blaine pack. They didn't say much. They didn't know what to say. They kept looking at him with pitying eyes and making sympathetic faces. Then they played video games until his uncle arrived to pick him up. _

_Before Blaine left their dorm room, Wes put a hand on Blaine's shoulder and offered, solemnly, "Well, at least your ass and back looked amazing!"_

_Blaine's eyes nearly popped out of his head. He choked, "What?"_

_David shoved Wes and muttered, "You're SO stupid."_

_Wes shot David a questioning look. "What? They did! If I were a gay dude, I'd think 'Hey, that guy's hot!'" Wes waggled his eyebrows._

_Blaine turned bright red, but smiled. "Uh … thanks."_

_Wes smiled victoriously at David. "No problem," he said to Blaine. _

_Again in unison, David and Wes intoned, "Don't forget to call!"_

Today would be Blaine's first day at McKinley. His uncle had allowed him to borrow his car (after he dropped him off at work— he did shift work at a nearby film processing factory). Now Blaine was at the Lima Bean, getting coffee before school. He hadn't really been able to sleep. School didn't even start for an hour. He was nervous. His uncle couldn't get the morning off, so Blaine would have to try to get himself registered. His parents had called the school the day before and the secretary at Dalton had already faxed his records. So It shouldn't be too hard.

As Blaine approached the counter, he glimpsed a plush ninja holding a heart ("You've stolen my heart") to the right of him and a pink robot ("You turn me on") to the left. He grimaced.

Then he actually growled, "I hate Valentine's Day!" and walked more quickly. He wasn't looking where he was going, so he accidentally ran right into …

"Kurt!" (as Blaine discovered a second later – when a shortish black teenage girl called out in the young man's direction and waved) "Meeting's over here!"

Of course, that was a split second before Blaine accidentally sent 'Kurt' tumbling to the ground.

Kurt was … surprising.

Yes. That's it.

Blaine was a bit too jaded, humiliated, and hurting to process much, but he couldn't NOT notice Kurt's _**blue, blue, blue**_ eyes and his _**warm, warm, warm**_ smile (which emerged after a flustered Blaine held out a hand to help Kurt up and started apologizing very profusely yet inarticulately). And oddly, for a guy, Kurt's hand was soft. So soft (but strong) that Blaine found himself reluctant to let go. He even ran a finger over the top of Kurt's hand before realizing what he was doing (Kurt had, at this point, turned a bright crimson), laughing nervously and flushing, and only then releasing the aforementioned hand.

"KURT!" The black girl yelled again. "COME **ON**!"

The young man colored slightly and laughed a nervous laugh. "I better go."

Blaine just nodded. He didn't trust himself to speak (nothing eloquent could be expected on V-Day and before coffee). Unconsciously, Blaine followed Kurt with his eyes.

'Kurt' was maybe an inch taller than Blaine, slender, with unstyled hair, skin white as porcelain, and a pink flush in his cheeks that Blaine thought might be a permanent feature. As he walked away, Blaine couldn't help but notice that Kurt had a nicely rounded butt. Blaine dropped his eyes guiltily then, but just for a moment before glancing back up. Kurt had reached his table by then and was actually looking at Blaine. Their eyes met, just for a moment, before they both looked away shyly. Good thing, too, because the barista was addressing Blaine somewhat impatiently at that point. "Excuse me … EXCUSE ME, SIR?"

Blaine laughed nervously and stepped forward. "Sorry … uh … medium drip, please."

Then he snuck another glance at Kurt's table. He saw two cheerleaders in bright red and white, a very obviously pregnant blonde girl, a behemoth (very tall, with broad shoulders, and a confused look on his face), a guy with a mohawk, a short white girl with wavy brown hair, a super skinny Asian guy, an Asian girl with a blue streak in her hair, a black guy with a goofy smile and no hair, a guy in a wheelchair, and the previously mentioned short black girl. Huhn. That was a weird group. Blaine wondered what they could have in common. He snuck one more glance at Kurt, sighed, and turned back to the barista, handing her a 10 dollar bill.

Kurt was the exact opposite of Sebastian. Kurt clearly had a strong fashion sense (he was wearing a burgundy scarf, a black silk cap with a brim, and a white long-sleeved shirt with a black sleeveless cardigan overtop – and some too-tight, or just-too-tight-enough, black jeans that made his butt look amazing), but he seemed … innocent and sweet (with all that blushing and the lack of product in his hair).

Just then, Kurt exclaimed, "Oh HELL! If I have to hear ONE MORE TIME how your 'condition' makes you one of the downtrodden, Quinn, I'm going to pull my hair out! I was born gay. Mercedes was born black. You were NOT born pregnant! Stop being such a princess and learn how to operate a condom!"

Blaine chuckled. He might have to rethink the 'sweet' part. Still, adorable and hot, funny, and gay (well and NOT a slick scheming lothario) … if Kurt went to McKinley Blaine was done for. He took his change and moved to the special counter with the half and half on it. Just then, he had a crippling thought. What if Sebastian weren't satisfied with running him out of the Warblers and Dalton? What if he put the 'sex tape' on YouTube? Blaine grabbed the counter and shut his eyes tight, riding out a sudden wave of nausea (that threatened to bring up the Egg McMuffin he'd wolfed down on the way here). When he felt steadier on his feet, he started fixing his coffee.

Blaine snapped the lid on his coffee cup and snuck another glance at Kurt. He was smiling at something 'Mercedes' (Blaine presumed … being the only black female in their group) was saying to him. Just then Kurt turned his head in Blaine's direction. Kurt held Blaine's eyes and smiled even brighter.

That … caused Blaine's heart to fall into his stomach.

Blaine quickly looked away. If Kurt only knew … about Sebastian and the rest, he probably wouldn't want anything to do with Blaine (he didn't seem too accepting of poor life choices). A wave of dizziness washed over Blaine.

He sighed. Best to try to avoid Kurt altogether. He walked out the side door, passing along the way a red robot (this one said, "Love machine"). He accidentally bumped the rack. The stupid thing actually started playing "Love Machine."

_**I'm just a love machine. A hugging kissing fiend. **_

Blaine rolled his eyes and cursed, "I HATE Valentine's Day!" He slammed the door on his way out (well as much as one can slam slow release doors).

None of this went unnoticed by Kurt.

**A/N 2: Tell me if you think I should continue … I can't tell if it's any good.**


	2. Honors World Literature II

**A/N: Please do review (good, bad, or ugly). I haven't received much feedback at this point, so I'm not sure how much interest there is in my continuing the story. I will for the time being – not many have read chapter 1 … so I'm assuming it's a time thing. **

**I hope this part doesn't suck. I gave a lot of detail … not sure whether it's too much or just right … I'm trying to establish their characters and put some road blocks in klaine's way. In canon, Blaine is not immediately smitten with Kurt (not consciously anyway – though he does a lot of shameless flirting), but I'm going a different route in this story.**

Chapter 2

Blaine spent first period registering and setting up his schedule. He walked out of the office and looked down at the rectangular slip of paper in his hand (Locker # A29 Combination 2-27-90) and the thin cardboard square in his hand

Period 1 Functions and Trigonometry (rm. 210)

Period 2 Honors World Literature II (rm. 306)

Period 3 Honors Chemistry (rm. 131)

Period 4 AP World History (rm. 312)

Period 5 Lunch

Period 6 Honors French III (rm. 204)

Period 7 Gym (MWF-gymnasium)/Creative Writing (TTh-rm. 304)

Period 8 Glee Club (choir room)

Blaine took a deep breath. That was a lot of schedule.

Coming from a prep school (and with a 3.9 GPA), the guidance counselor, Ms. Pillsbury, had put him in nearly all Honors classes (and one AP). She'd smiled and chirped so brightly (while looking at his transcript) that he'd started smiling himself. In fact, she'd infected him so much with her optimism and confidence in his ability that when she'd asked which club he wanted to join (one was mandatory for club hour – 8th period), he'd immediately pointed to Glee.

But now, no longer basking in her sunshine, Blaine started to feel uncomfortable, like his skin was just a little too tight. After Sebastian's deception, losing the Warblers (and more importantly most of his friends), and leaving Dalton, he wasn't sure he'd be happy joining another show choir. Wouldn't his participation just evoke bittersweet memories? Make him sad like ALL the time? Blaine grimaced as a wave of dizziness washed through him. God! What if he had to compete against his former comrades? Blaine sighed and ran a hand over his face. Glee might be a stupid idea, but he should give it a chance. He could switch out later if necessary.

And Creative Writing? What had he been thinking? The VERY last thing he needed was to express his feelings. All he really wanted to do was to pretend he had none. Be stone. He didn't want to explore what it felt like to be used and lied to by his first boyfriend or cast aside by friends he'd had for two years. He wanted to pretend none of that had happened and just be more careful. The last week had taught him, if nothing else, that the only person you could really depend on was yourself and being open, trusting, and generous was a recipe for disaster. He might as well have had a sign on his head: DOORMAT. Blaine groaned. Well, it was just two days a week for a few months. He could just make shit up. No one knew him. That could be fun. Imagine he was David or Wes, maybe, and try to write something they might.

The bell pealed out twice then in quick succession. Crud. He'd have to run (English was on the third floor). He placed a hand on his messenger bag (to prevent bouncing) and took off running. He ascended the stairs three at a time and then sprinted down the hall in the direction the sign indicated 306 was. The hall was mostly empty (the bell announcing the beginning of second period was probably about to ring). He kicked out his knees to lengthen his strides (and thus cover more territory faster). Blaine grinned when he glimpsed the nameplate '306.' He grabbed the doorframe and swung around and through the doorway JUST as the bell rang. He started to chuckle, but the laughter died on his lips.

THUD

Blaine had skidded into, knocked over, and fallen onto a solid something, a something that was also kind of soft (he noticed as he faceplanted on it), warm, and smelled especially nice, like vanilla and orange maybe. He popped his head up in alarm and laid eyes on a very red-faced, very adorable, VERY annoyed brunet (Kurt). For just a moment, Blaine was stunned into just reacting. He smiled and looked down sheepishly (even scrunching his nose – Blaine was not insensitive to people's reactions to him, particularly the reactions of gay guys and straight girls – the head hanging and nose scrunching generally produced a begrudging smile and twinkly eyes – and that's exactly what it produced on his makeshift cushion – Kurt).

This perhaps perfect moment was shattered by sniggering and taunts emanating from three jocks (Blaine assumed – they were wearing letterman jackets) seated on the far left (the desks were in a circle, so there was no back or front). One of them, Blaine wasn't sure which, hissed, "Get a room, fags!"

Blaine could feel Kurt flinch bodily beneath him. He sighed. Back to this then. He'd actually started attending Dalton in his freshman year after some extreme bullying by homophobes at a Sadie Hawkins Dance at his old school. He climbed off of Kurt and offered him a hand. Kurt had started frowning the minute he'd heard the mocking laughter. But now, his eyes were wide. His mouth formed a small o. Blaine laughed warmly and wiggled his fingers to encourage Kurt to take his hand. That got Kurt moving. He shook his head, as if to clear it of fog, and gingerly slipped his hand into Blaine's. Blaine wrapped his hand firmly around Kurt's and pulled him to his feet. His hand lingered (again) over Kurt's, as if it had a mind of his own.

The black jock scoffed. "Ms. Betts! They're flaming fagginess is warping my fragile teenage mind. I think I've been traumatized. Can I go to the guidance counselor?"

Kurt wrenched his hand away suddenly and scurried back to his seat.

Blaine looked around the room. Everyone (but the teacher, well, and Kurt) was staring at him then. There was just one desk open, on the far side of one of the jocks. He sighed.

The teacher, a tall slender young woman with straight light brown hair that fell almost to her butt, shook her head in disappointment. She chastised, "Azimio, you know we don't use language like that in here. I'm writing you a referral. That makes two. Three strikes and you're out." The teacher smiled at Blaine. Then she looked around. "Thom, can you go sit next to Dave?"

A tall lanky kid with bangs nearly covering his eyes shrugged, collected his belongings, ducked under the desk, and crossed the circle.

Ms. Betts looked at Blaine then. He thought she had kind eyes. "What's your name?"

Blaine flashed his default charming smile, though he wasn't really feeling it. "Blaine Anderson."

"Great to meet you, Blaine! I'm Ms. Betts. We can do the whole go around the room introduction thing tomorrow. For now, have a seat." She flourished toward the desk Thom had vacated – right – next – to –Kurt. Blaine bit back a smile and sat down. He peeked over at Kurt, hoping to get a sense of whether Kurt was happy or unhappy with this change, but his face was a mask. Blaine couldn't tell.

Ms. Betts clapped her hands together. "Alright, today we're starting a tale of love, betrayal, and revenge! Hamlet! Yay!" On yay, she lifted her hands in the air and waved them around. She glanced around at the students, eyes wide, grinning, and nodding (as if to say, 'Awesome, right?). Then she shrugged. "Not excited yet? Well hold onto your seats. We'll explore the idea of true love – does it exist? If it does, what does it look like? And perhaps the most important for you … what are society's expectations for men and women? Have they changed meaningfully in the last few hundred years? Should they change?" She handed a pile of papers to the students on either end of the circle. "Take one and pass them. These are opinionaires. They have 10 statements. I want you to read through them and choose the response corresponding to your level of agreement or disagreement. Then I want you to share your responses with the person to your right. So Rachel will be with Santana, Rob will be with Mike, Kurt will be with Blaine, and so on. In your little groups, select two on which you disagree or are unsure and discuss. I'll give you 15 minutes. Be prepared to share with the class."

As the teacher gestured toward the partner groups, Blaine recognized Rachel and Santana from the Lima Bean that morning. Huhn. Despite apparently being friends (they were having coffee together earlier), neither seemed pleased with being partners. They weren't making eye contact and they both looked like they wanted to puke. Blaine shrugged and glanced over his paper. He set his messenger bag on the floor and started rifling for a pen, as he read.

"1. You should always stick by friends no matter what."

Blaine rolled his eyes. Should? Yes. Do people? Nope. He circled 'strongly agree.'

"2. The search for self-identity is THE most important quest you can undertake. Everything else (love, family, etc.) is secondary."

Huhn. The romantic in Blaine wanted to disagree. Before Sebastian, he'd dreamed of falling in love with someone and then showing that someone his love every single day … serenades, candlelit dinners, slow dancing, cuddling, and deep, deep, passionate kisses … but maybe that was unrealistic. Maybe you should focus only on you. He sighed sadly. He hesitated but then circled 'not sure.'

"3. People can love more than one person in their lives, either consecutively or at the same time. It is a fallacy to believe you have one fated lover (a soulmate)."

Blaine frowned. He wasn't that jaded yet. He circled 'strongly disagree.'

"4. Some things should never be forgiven or forgotten."

Blaine clenched his jaw. He couldn't ever imagine forgiving Sebastian, and his was not even a jail-able offense. What if someone committed murder or rape? Blaine shook his head. He circled 'agree.'

"5. Revenge is often a justifiable way of seeking justice for yourself or others.

6\. You can live in an evil world and be unaffected, unchanged by that world."

Blaine tilted his head side to side. He just didn't know. He shrugged and circled 'disagree' for both. Blaine knew like he knew nothing else that he was a different person now, so much different from the person he'd been even a month ago. He didn't think there was any going back.

"7. Humans are meant to marry only once. We are monogamous by nature."

Blaine smiled and circled 'strongly agree.'

"8. People who do wrong are always punished, either by a court of law, God, or karmic retribution in life."

Blaine grimaced. He circled 'strongly disagree.' If only that were true. If that were true, Dalton would have expelled Sebastian.

"9. Suicide is always wrong."

A bad idea? Probably always or almost always. But wrong? He didn't know. He circled 'unsure.'

"10. We are ultimately only in control of our own attitudes and actions. We should decide for ourselves (not letting others influence us) and not decide for others (not trying to influence them)."

Blaine groaned. He didn't know. He'd spent two years bending to the will of the crowd at Dalton. He'd learned the importance of collaboration (working together toward a single goal) and the value of shared ideals. When he'd arrived there, he'd wanted nothing more than to belong. Their vision statement and honor code were inspirational. And until Sebastian, he'd never felt anything but liked and supported there. He made a face. Then he circled 'unsure.'

Blaine had been so absorbed in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed Kurt reading over his shoulder. Until he finished. Then he turned to talk to Kurt and nearly jumped out of his skin. Kurt had scooted his chair closer (most likely to facilitate the reading), so his face was just an inch or two from Blaine's (a situation Blaine hardly expected). Blaine jumped a little but tried to act like he hadn't. He didn't exactly 'mind' the proximity, and the last thing he wanted was for Kurt to move back. He played it off by smiling warmly and then looking over at Kurt's paper.

He said, dropping his pitch and adding a hum to his voice, "So 2, 5, and 10 …" Blaine swallowed hard. He could feel his face flush. He hadn't made his voice 'sound sexy' on purpose. It was just something that happened when he was around a guy he liked. Which … meant he REALLY liked Kurt.

Blaine looked back at Kurt then. Kurt was smiling, his eyes bright. He breathed, "You're a romantic." A statement.

"I guess." Blaine shrugged and looked away before glancing back.

"Me, too." Suddenly, Kurt narrowed his eyes. "Have you ever been in love?"

Blaine's eyes widened. "What?" Was that a test? He'd indicated on his opinionaire that he believed in committing once and completely. That he believed in soulmates.

Then before Blaine could give any answer, for which he was profoundly grateful, Kurt confessed, "I've never had a boyfriend."

Blaine tensed up and looked away. He struggled to breathe. He didn't want to lie, but he never, EVER wanted to talk about Sebastian. The situation was humiliating.

Probably reading Blaine's reaction wrong, Kurt sputtered, "I … didn't … I mean I didn't mean to assume … of course, you would have a girlfriend …"

Blaine snapped his head back. And because his good judgment had apparently left the building, he acted on a crazy impulse, leaning into Kurt and whispering huskily, so close Kurt could feel the warm puffs of Blaine's breath on his ear (causing him to squeak softly and cling to the edge of his desk), "I would definitely NOT have a girlfriend."

That elicited a half-whisper, half-moan. "Oh." Blaine laughed softly. Maybe Kurt was feeling him, too. Crud. WHAT was he doing? He was supposed to be giving Kurt a wide berth. Kurt seemed nice. But then Sebastian had, too. And Blaine felt certain that if he ever told Kurt about Sebastian that Kurt would run as far and as fast as he could in the opposite direction.

Fortunately (?) for Blaine (or at least for his will power), what Kurt said then gave Blaine pause. Kurt shook his head. "Wow. I've never met another person who was out before."

Blaine nodded slowly and sighed. Now that was more like the real world. Kurt wasn't into HIM. He was maybe into the only other gay guy at McKinley. Well, Blaine was done being used. He scooted his chair farther away from Kurt, turning his chair 90 degrees as a pretext to put distance between them. Then all business like, he asked, "What makes you think the search for self-identity matters the most?"

Kurt looked confused, like he realized something had changed, but he wasn't sure what or why. "Oh … uh … well, if you don't know who you are or what you want, what your ambitions are, you won't be happy. You have to make yourself happy, right?"

Blaine shrugged. "Shouldn't the person you love make you happy, too? I mean, suppose you want to be a doctor, but you can't afford to go to school. Does that mean you'll never be happy? Even if you meet and start a relationship with your soulmate?"

Kurt frowned. "Huhn. I don't know."

Blaine's eyes widened.

Kurt declared, "I want to be a star on Broadway. I don't know what I would do if for some reason I knew that could never happen." He actually looked frightened.

"Let me ask you this … if you had to choose, be with your soulmate or be a star on Broadway, which would you pick?"

Kurt gaped. "Oh. I … I don't know. I guess …" He grimaced. "… I guess Broadway …"

"Wow." Blaine laughed nervously. "I'm the exact opposite. I'd choose my soulmate. Every time."

Kurt flushed visibly. Blaine wasn't sure why.

That's when Ms. Betts called time. "Okay, let's come back together and start presenting."

Blaine turned his chair back around and Kurt slid his back to the left. Blaine sighed. Well, just another on a growing list of reasons not to pursue Kurt. He'd really have to start reining in his attraction to the boy. Stop being so obvious and focus on something else. Maybe Glee could be that thing for him.


End file.
